The Awkward Girl: an ageless trope and a true facet in movies and TV shows for decades. Clunky, weird, and quirky, characters with attributes like these have a certain draw to them; Bianca in The DUFF, Betty in Ugly Betty, April Ludgate in Parks and Recreation, Tina Belcher in Bob’s Burgers, Jess Day in New Girl, Phoebe in Friends… just to name a few.Â
But what about the “real-life” awkward girls? What about the former awkward teenage girls, entering their adult lives and preparing for the real world? The still kind-of-awkward girls who are scared of the dark and sleep with a podcast on all night, cry over fictional characters in books and TV shows, listen to Audrey Hobert’s album Who’s the Clown? and relate a little too much, love dipping their fries in applesauce, have an affinity for ketchup, and still believe in insane superstitions? The ones who are a year or two into their twenties and trying to figure out college, taxes, 401ks, jobs, relationships, everything else that comes with growing up, and are still a little scared of growing up? I’d say I’m one of those girls, and maybe you are too, so here’s what my experience as being “her” has taught me so far.
Entering your twenties feels a bit like showing up to a party you weren’t sure you were invited to. Everyone seems to know what they’re doing… there’s that one girl in your class who knows all her career ambitions and has about five internships at the same time, another girl who is already getting engaged and you just figured out what it means to be in a healthy relationship, and that other girl with glass skin who obviously doesn’t pop every pimple and blackhead in sight, and probably has the most elaborate skincare routine ever. Sometimes, it just feels like I’m standing there in the kitchen in my underwear, mascara under my eyes, holding a half-eaten slice of cold pizza, wondering if I’m doing life “wrong.”
But here’s the thing I’m slowly learning: your twenties aren’t about having it all figured out. They’re all about leaning into the weird, messy, sometimes crazy version of yourself; the version of yourself that is one hundred percent, authentically you.
I feel like I’m starting to realize that “awkward” isn’t something to fix; it’s kind of turning into a superpower. You may be the girl who still sings in the shower and dances in the mirror after, trips over air, laughs at poop jokes, and overthinks every text… but you’re also the girl who’s learning to show up as herself, even when it feels uncomfortable. You don’t need to be effortlessly cool, perfectly confident, or fit in everywhere and with everything. You just need to be authentic to yourself.
There’s something so beautiful about the chaos of your twenties, and living them with your friends. Slowly, I have realized that everyone is in the same boat: trying, failing, and trying again– even the girl who has five (now six) internships and perfect skin. I started learning that growth may not always look graceful; sometimes it’s just you crying in your car to the Adele CD you bought at the thrift store, then getting up and doing it all over again the next day. I’ve come to learn that the “awkward girl” who always said the wrong thing in middle school and had an outrageous side part is actually kind of awesome now, because she is genuine, curious, intelligent, and still figuring it out, but she’s doing it with all her heart.
So yeah, maybe I don’t have a five-year plan, and maybe you don’t either. Maybe you still feel like an awkward teenager with a debit card and a rent bill, just like me. But that’s okay. Embrace the awkward. Own your softness. Wear the outfit that doesn’t match or follow every single trend you see on your For You Page. Eat the Taco Bell or McDonald’s $5 Meal Deal with your friends. Post what you want to post on your social media. Be unabashedly you. Your twenties aren’t about becoming someone new; they’re about finally letting yourself be the person you’ve always been, unapologetically.
“I’ma live it up like my life starts now / Blink and you could miss it, it’s over, it’s alright”
– Audrey Hobert, “Silver Jubilee,” Who’s the Clown?
